


Between the Rosebushes

by AzraelGFG



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Smut, Grief/Mourning, Loss of Virginity, POV Sandor, POV Sansa, Post-The Battle of the Blackwater, sansa is sixteen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2019-12-14
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:14:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21632749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AzraelGFG/pseuds/AzraelGFG
Summary: Sandor stays in King's Landing after fleeing from the battlefield. After the battle, he is only spared due to Lord Tywin's personal request. The Lord of Castery Rock has a new purpose for Joffrey's former dog and Sandor isn't sure if he is going to like his new orders...
Relationships: Sandor Clegane & Sansa Stark, Sandor Clegane/Sansa Stark
Comments: 67
Kudos: 272





	1. Sandor

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mademoiselle_k](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mademoiselle_k/gifts), [Yetis_girl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yetis_girl/gifts), [lady_of_the_hermitscave](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lady_of_the_hermitscave/gifts), [junojelli](https://archiveofourown.org/users/junojelli/gifts), [SassyEggs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SassyEggs/gifts).



> Inspired by this behind the scenes picture:

“I should have you executed, dog!” Joffrey yelled at him as he stood in front of him in the throne room.

The hall was filled with all kind of Lordlings and ladies, that have gathered to see how this little blond shit awards the heroes of the battle and punished who opposed him.

Sandor could have left the city. He was about to leave the city after he had told the king he could fuck himself. But somehow, he had ended up in the little bird’s room instead.

_Gods_ , he thought, she had looked so beautiful when he had seen her in the throne room before the battle when she had wished the king luck in the upcoming battle. Her hair shining like copper illuminated by the flames of the fires that Joffrey had ordered to be installed around the pillars that held the roof of the throne room. Luckily nobody had noticed him starring at her like a fool when she had exchanged words with her fiancé.

When she had sung her song to him, he had left her room, but instead of fleeing as he had intended, he had returned to the battlefield. The little bird was just a naïve girl, who thought her name and age would protect her from Stannis men if they had stormed the Red Keep.

He hadn’t been able to allow Stannis to win this battle and let his men defile her. Not after he had just saved her from being defiled by these filthy men in the back alley during the bread riots.

Luckily, Lord Tywin and the Tyrell army had arrived in time to turn the battle in their favor.

Stannis men had fled, besides the unlucky souls that had been taken prisoner.

He had been taken prisoner not long after when one of his former brothers of the Kingsguard recognized him between the surviving men.

“You fled with your tail between your legs!” Joffrey said even louder, making the crowd laugh.

Let them laugh, Sandor thought. These puffed up cunts weren’t on the battlefield. They hadn’t seen what he had seen. Smelled what he had smelled.

“Your grace,” Lord Tywin said. Lord Tywin had been named the new hand replacing the Imp as Hand of the King. Sandor had no idea what had happened to the dwarf, but what he had heard, he might not live to see the next moon.

“Maybe, we should take into consideration that Sandor Clegane protected you your whole life,” the lord of Casterly Rock said. “If one of all the prisoners deserves a second chance it’s this man.”

Sandor had no idea why Lord Tywin said these things. He knew he didn’t hold his brother in very high regards and if he wouldn’t be Lord Tywin’s best tool to spread terror, he would have gotten rid of Gregor already years ago.

But for now, Sandor stayed quiet.

“Of course, he can’t stay a member of your Kingsguard, but he can still serve us in other positions,” Tywin explained further.

“In which positions, grandfather?” Joffrey asked

“In every position that fits us,” Lord Tywin said.

“You might be right; I should have known it would be stupid to let a dog be part of a brotherhood of knights,” Joffrey said and the crowd laughed again. “Sandor Clegane you are allowed to live, but ever turn on your King again and your life is forfeited.”

“Aye your grace,” Sandor said.

Sandor was freed of his chains and allowed to stay with the other prisoners that had been pardoned.

From his position he watched as Littlefinger got rewarded for negotiating the alliance between House Lannister and Tyrell and afterward he watched in silence as every prisoner was brought forward and was pardoned when swearing loyalty once more, or immediately led outside to be executed.

This procedure took nearly two hours.

After the last prisoner had been led outside to be executed Ser Loras Tyrell stepped forward.

“Your house has come to our aid. The whole realm is in your debt, none more so than I. If your family would ask anything of me, ask it, and it shall be yours,” Joffrey announced.

“Your Grace, my sister Margaery, her husband was taken from us before... She remains innocent. I would ask you to find it in your heart to do us the great honor of joining our houses.”

“Is this what you want, Lady Margaery?”

Sandor watched lady Margaery step forward. She was pretty for sure, but she paled against the little bird in his eyes.

“With all my heart, Your Grace. I have come to love you from afar. Tales of your courage and wisdom have never been far from my ears. And those tales have taken root deep inside of me.”

“I, too, have heard tales of your beauty and grace, but the tales do not do you justice, my lady. It would be an honor to return your love, but I am promised to another. A king must keep his word,” Joffrey said.

_As if you ever cared about the Stark girl_ , Sandor thought.

“Your Grace, in the judgment of your Small Council, it would be neither proper nor wise for you to wed the daughter of a man beheaded for treason, a girl whose brother is in open rebellion against the throne as we speak. For the good of the realm, your councilors beg you to set Sansa Stark aside,” Pycelle threw in and the crowd started to murmur.

Sandor looked over to the gallery where the little bird was standing watching everything in silence.

“Margaery! We want Margaery!” a few people hidden in the crowd called.

“I would like to heed your wishes and the wishes of my people, but I took a holy vow,” Joffrey said, but Pycelle spoke up again.

“Your Grace, the gods do indeed hold betrothal solemn, but your father, blessed be his memory, made this pact before the Starks revealed their falseness. I have consulted with the High Septon and he assures me that their crimes against the realm free you from any promise you have made to them in the sight of the gods.”

After a moment of consideration, Joffrey spoke up again.

“The gods are good. I am free to heed my heart. Ser Loras, I will gladly wed your sweet sister. You will be my queen and I will love you from this day until my last day.”

The crowd applauded and Sandor saw the little bird leave the gallery and disappearing in the crowd.

The crowd started to leave the throne room and Sandor saw Sansa talk with Littlefinger as he left the throne room as well. He had his usual smug face, while Sansa looked like something had scared her.

Sandor didn’t like it. Littlefinger only meant trouble for Sansa.

***

The day after the gathering, he was ordered into the Tower of the Hand.

Maybe Lord Tywin changed his mind and he was no going to be executed.

As he entered the study, Lord Tywin sat at his table and wrote a letter. The lord of Casterly Rock didn’t waste any time to start his work.

“Clegane,” Lord Tywin said not looking up from his letter.

“Lord Hand,” Sandor said and stayed a few meters away from the table.

“You know why I sparred you?” he asked and Sandor wasn’t sure what he was supposed to say.

“I don’t know, my lord,” he said after a few seconds.

“Because you are too valuable to die like a traitor,” Tywin said folding the letter he had just written. “You are a skilled warrior. Maybe the best swordsman in Westeros after Jaime and at the same time you are probably one of the few who could actually stand a chance against your brother, should it be necessary.”

Lord Tywin’s eyes met his and Sandor felt uncomfortable.

“I got word about the circumstances when you said the words that nearly cost your life. I blame Tyrion for it. He was stupid to waste a soldier like you fighting outside the walls.”

Tywin sealed the letter and put it aside before starting a new one.

“Any idea why you are here?” he asked plainly.

“I don’t know, my lord.”

“Sansa Stark,” he said and Sandor felt his heart speed up. Had he somehow gotten word that he had been in her room during the battle?

“My lord?”

“Now that Joffrey has set her aside, other people will turn their attention to her. Especially the Tyrells will try to get their hands on her since she is the key to the North.”

Lord Tywin put aside his quill.

“I got word from Varys that you saved the Stark girl during the bread riots,” he said with crossed arms.

“Aye, I did.”

“What exactly did you save her from?”

“Some peasants tried to rape her, but I killed them before they could do it,” Sandor said.

“Maester Pycelle confirms your words because I ordered him to check her maidenhead yesterday,” Tywin said plainly and Sandor felt anger boil up in him at the thought of Pycells filthy fingers on the little bird’s skin. “As the war with her brother stands now, there is a certain chance that whoever claims her will have a certain chance to get a grasp on the North. I must know about her whereabouts, but I don’t trust either Baelish or Varys with that and that’s where you come into play.”

“My lord, I don’t understand.”

“You serve me now and you will keep an eye on that Stark girl during the day. You will follow her discreetly around and report everything you see to me and only me, you understand?” Tywin asked sternly.

“Aye, I understand, my lord.”

“Good,” Tywin said and started a new letter. “Is there something else, Clegane?”

“When do I start?” he asked.

“Now, so you better get going,” he said not looking up from writing his letter.

Sandor bowed and left the room.

***

Sandor had followed around Sansa for most of the day already in the distance. He had made sure that she didn’t notice him. It was a dull job so far. He had watched for countless hours sitting at the pier with her handmaiden, obviously watching the ships leaving the harbor. The only interesting thing had been Littlefinger talking with her for a while, but he had left an hour ago already and the little bird was still watching ships.

_Probably dreaming that one of them would take her back North_ , Sandor thought.

Sandor was glad when the little bird finally returned to the keep with her handmaiden. Sandor made sure to even stay out of sight of the two Lannister soldiers that followed Sansa around already.

It was already lunchtime and Sandor knew that the little bird would have her lunch in her chamber as always. It wasn’t likely that she would go anywhere, so Sandor took that chance to get some food for himself from the kitchen.

Afterward, he waited at the end of the stairway the little bird had to take when leaving the part of the keep where her chamber was located.

Sandor sighed. He thought this would be an easy job Lord Tywin had given him but instead, he was already fed up with it.

Sandor waited for about an hour when Sansa finally came down the stairway.

Sansa nearly ran into him.

“Apologies, Ser,” Sansa said humbly not looking at him. This was the first time he was this close to her since he had been in her room when the Blackwater had burned.

“I am no, Ser,” Sandor growled. “Where are you heading?”

“To the godswood,” she said.

“Praying for the King?” Sandor asked ironically.

“Sure ser,” she said, but this time Sandor didn’t took offend in her calling him a knight once more.

Sandor huffed and Sansa quickly went her way. He waited about five minutes before he followed her to the godswood.

The sun was burning from the sky and Sandor felt his hair stick to his sweaty neck, as he made his way through the gardens of the Red Keep to the godswood.

He knew where he was heading. There was a place where you had a great view down to the weirwood without being able to be spotted from there.

As he reached that spot, Sandor could already see the little birds shining coppery hair down kneeling in front of the tree.

He watched her in silence. Maybe Lord Tywin was getting paranoid, Sandor thought to himself. Nothing so far was worth reporting back to Lord Tywin.

Maybe he should make up something to report. Maybe that Littlefinger talked to her a lot. If he said the right things that might cause Littlefinger to lose influence and ideally his head, but Littlefinger would probably talk himself out of everything Sandor reported and so it would only cause Sansa trouble in the end.

Sandor wouldn’t risk that.

Sandor focused back on Sansa and saw that someone was talking to her. Even the soldiers were gone.

Sandor squinted his eyes and thought he could see the Tyrell girl Joffrey was now going to marry.

The two girls talked for a few minutes before they made their way deeper into the godswood and Sandor hurried to get closer, so he might hear something of interest that he could report to Lord Tywin.

He stayed far enough away that the two girls didn’t notice his presence. The two girls finally stopped at a small stone wall with a great view over the Blackwater Bay. They both sat down and started to chat.

“Shit,” Sandor cursed quietly as he saw there was no chance he could get close enough to hear what they were talking about. He hid between some red rose bushes. He had a clear view of the two girls.

They were laughing about something and enjoying the sunny weather.

Sandor had no idea how they could in their long dresses. The Tyrell girl had at least light silk, while the little bird wore her usual heavy brocade dress.

Margaery handed her a hand fan as they talked and Sandor watched.

Suddenly, Sansa pulled her skirts up a little and revealed her legs to the sun, obviously for cooling purposes, but Sandor’s mouth suddenly felt dry.

He had seen her in way more undressed states, when Joffrey had her beaten, or when he had found her the day she had flowered, but this somehow felt different. A highborn lady was supposed to show as little as possible of her body in public. Sansa obviously only did it because she thought herself in private with the Tyrell girl.

Sandor tried to focus so he might notice what the girls were talking about, by the facial expressions of Sansa and Margaery, but he had a hard time seeing Sansa like that.

Sandor’s mind was so absent that he didn’t even notice that Sansa’s eyes had found him and Sandor felt his heart skip a beat, thinking she would say there weren’t alone, which would definitely render his mission failed.

Sansa looked right at him, but much to his surprise she lifted her skirts even higher above her knees and Sandor felt himself getting hard in his breeches.

_Was she smirking_? Sandor thought.

Sansa turned back her attention to the Tyrell girl, who hadn’t notice her momentarily focusing on him.

Not long after the two girls left the godswood and Sandor followed them again. Luckily the two girls parted ways as they reached the keep and Sansa returned to her room allowing Sandor to end his day of spying. It was already early evening.

He went to the kitchen and got himself two skins of dornish red and two chicken before he went to the new chamber he had been given, now that he wasn’t living in the White Sword Tower anymore.

He was himself off the sweat and dust that was sticking to his skin before he started to eat.

After he was done he slumped down on his bed taking a sip of his wineskin.

He starred up to the bare stone roof above him. The images of Sansa kept circling in his head and he felt himself getting hard again.

He took another sip trying to get rid of the images. He felt bad that Sansa had such an effect on him.

She was just a girl of sixteen. Barely a woman, but she still caused him to get hard.

“I am not Trant for fuck's sake,” Sandor whispered to himself and emptied his wineskin before he took a sip from his second.

He had no idea, why Sansa had lifted her skirts even higher. If anything, he had expected her to cover herself up immediately on spotting him.

Sandor hoped Sansa wouldn’t do anything like that in the future or _his_ little bird would really be his death someday.


	2. Sansa

Sansa walked next to Margaery while she happily chatted about her cousin and family in Highgarden.

Sansa had been praying, when Margaery had approached her.

When Joffrey had set her aside, Sansa couldn’t have been happier, but now she was praying that Lord Baelish’s words wouldn’t come true.

So far Joffrey had left her alone since he announced his betrothal with Margaery, but what if he would start to have her beaten again. What if Joffrey would indeed demand that she was brought to his bed.

Sansa had prayed to the gods to prevent that and make Robb win this war finally so she could go home.

She had also prayed for Sandor Clegane earlier, just like she had prayed for him silently when he had been brought before the King after the battle. He had come to her room when the Blackwater had burned and Sansa had been afraid, he meant to kill her, but instead, he had offered to take her home, before making her sing a song when she had refused to go with him.

He had been so drunk this night. Drunker than she had ever seen him before, but he had not hurt her. He had listened to her song before he had kissed her.

Then he had left and Sansa had thought he was gone. But she had surprisingly seen him again when he had been brought before Joffrey.

Sansa was glad he was spared. He had, after all, saved her from being killed by these men in the back alley during the breadroots. She hadn’t seen much of even ever since thought. Since he wasn’t member of the King’s guard anymore, she hadn’t seen him during court.

“Come sit with me,” Margaery said and they sat down on a small stone wall.

It was warm. Even warmer than usual and Margaery handed her a hand fan for which Sansa was grateful for it.

So far it was nice to spend time with Margaery. It was nice to spend time with someone else than Shae.

Margaery was everything Sansa had wished for in a sister. Still, she missed Arya and prayed every day before sleep that Arya would somehow get home safely.

Margaery had just proposed the idea of her marrying her brother. Sansa had immediately imagined it to be Ser Loras, but she had started to talk about Willas instead. Sansa’s heart sank a little when she heard that he was crippled, but she didn’t dare to say anything against it yet.

She wanted someone brave and strong. How could a man like Willas be like that?

“What do you think, Sansa? We would be sisters,” Margaery said smirking.

Sansa didn’t give an answer but instead shot her a small smile.

“It’s so warm today,” Margaery said. “I have no idea how you can endure that weather in your thick brocade, Sansa.”

“I simply accept that its warm,” Sansa said with a small shrug.

“I could ask my grandmother to let the dressmaker make you a dress like mine,” she said and gestured to her silk dress, revealing way more than Sansa was willing to show.

Too many people had already seen her very little dressed when Joffrey had ordered Meryn Trant to shred her dress. She didn’t need them to see her in a similar state, but this time in a whole dress.

“It wouldn’t be proper for a girl of the North to wear a dress like that,” Sansa said.

“You aren’t in the North anymore,” Margaery said smirking.

“Still. My mother wouldn’t approve of it,” Sansa said.

“I see. You could still relax a little, we are alone in the godswood.”

Sansa looked around and saw nobody.

She pulled up her skirts a little allowing the fresh breeze from the sea to wind around her legs.

Sansa hummed at the cooling feeling.

“See? I told you,” Margaery said smiling.

Margaery continued to talk about how beautiful Highgarden was, but Sansa wasn’t really interested in it right now, but she didn’t dare to speak up. As nice as Margaery might be, she was still Joffrey’s new betrothed of a powerful House. Sansa wouldn’t dare to enrage her.

Sansa instead let her eyes wander over the gardens and suddenly her eyes landed on a rosebush where she noticed a movement.

Sansa felt her heart speed up when she noticed the scarred face of Sandor Clegane. For a moment she was stunned before she instinctively wanted to smooth out her skirts hiding from his view, but something stopped her.

Knowing that he was obviously watching her somehow made her face warm-up and she felt a strange feeling in her lower belly she had only twice felt before.

The first time had been when she had spent time with Joffrey alone and he had kissed her. The other time had been When Ser Loras had given her the rose during her father’s tourney.

Somehow, she wanted to do something wicked and raised her skirts even higher above her knees before she smirked a little to his direction before she turned her attention back to Margaery.

As Margaery talked Sansa had a hard time to follow her descriptions of Highgarden because her thoughts circled around the man who was hiding up there between the rosebushes. The man that had kissed her.

Sansa had no idea for how long she and Margaery stayed on this small wall, but the sun started to go down when they finally left the godswood.

That evening when Shae brushed her hair and asked her why she was smiling to herself Sansa only answered that she had an interesting day.


	3. Sandor

“So, Clegane, what can you report?” Lord Tywin asked sternly a few weeks after he had given Sandor the order to spy after Sansa.

Cersei was sitting next to him at the long table in the Hand’s tower, where usually the small council was meeting.

Cersei looked curious as well.

“Not much. The Stark girl often walks around with her handmaiden and spends too many hours at the piers watching ships,” Sandor said truthfully.

“Ships?” Cersei asked amused. “The little dove is dreaming of sailing back North,” she added with a cruel smirk.

“What else?” Tywin asked not caring about Cersei’s comment.

“She often prays in the godswood.”

“Any meetings?”

“She once was approached by Lady Margaery and I watched them talk…” Sandor said but was interrupted immediately.

“What did they talk about?” Tywin asked.

“I couldn’t hear them, but the Stark girl didn’t say much but instead listened most of the time,” Sandor said and felt his mouth go dry remembering Sansa that one afternoon in the godswood.

“Did you see the Stark girl meet with anyone else than Lady Margaery?” Tywin asked.

“One day she was escorted by Loras Tyrell to Lady Olenna and Lady Margaery. I could only witness everything from the distance. Too many Tyrell men around to get close.”

“Did they notice you?”

_Yes_. “No, neither the Stark girl nor anyone else,” Sandor lied.

“And what did they do when she met the Tyrells?” Cersei asked.

“Talk…eat…nothing else,” Sandor rasped.

“Did the Stark girl seem happy when you saw her afterward?” Tywin asked his daughter.

“No father. She looked like always,” Cersei said with a shrug.

“Well, it seems the Tyrells plot without the Stark girl’s knowledge,” Tywin said not talking to either him nor Cersei directly. “Doesn’t matter, our plans will cross theirs before their plans will bear fruits.”

Sandor had no idea what Lord Tywin meant by that.

“Clegane, you will continue to shadow the Stark girl where ever she goes. It now more important than ever that you immediately report if you see something unusual, you understand?” Lord Tywin said sternly.

“Aye, Lord Hand.”

“You are dismissed Clegane and when you leave send Tyrion inside. It’s time to discuss his future,” Tywin said and Cersei smirked in a way that made Sandor’s skin crawl.

He bowed his head before he took his leave. Outside the door, Lord Tyrion was sitting on a chair with an accounting book.

“Get in,” Sandor rasped towards Tyrion, while not looking at the Imp.

“Clegane, as charming as ever,” Tyrion japed and Sandor only growled not giving an answer before he heard the door close after Tyrion entered the room.

***

The next day, Sandor watched Sansa again with Margaery in the godswood. So far today, he had witnessed Sansa crying in the godswood for hours, until Margaery had found her and they had taken a stroll only to sit down near the water once again. Today everything Lord Tywin had said yesterday made sense.

This morning the word had spread inside the Red Keep like wildfire that the Imp was going to marry the Stark girl.

At first, he had thought it to be a stupid rumor. Afterall ever since Joffrey had set her aside, rumors of her marrying this Lord or that knight had appeared soon after, but this news had turned out to be true when it was officially announced during court this morning.

His heart ached to see Sansa cry like that. He somehow longed to approach her and be it just so he could tell her…he had actually no idea what he would tell…or what he could tell her to feel better.

Sandor was kind of glad that the Tyrell girl had finally come and taken Sansa for a stroll giving the little bird some distraction.

He saw Margaery give her a handkerchief and Sansa dried her cheeks a little. The two girls got up from their seats and walked down the path out of the godswood and Sandor saw they came dangerously close to where he was hiding.

He got down between the rose bushes and tried not to move, so the bush wouldn’t make a sound. Luckily this gave him for once the chance to actually hear what the girls were talking about as the stopped just a few bushes away from where he was hiding.

Margaery picked a rose.

“You would have been happy at Highgarden. But women in our position must make the best of our circumstances,” the Tyrell girl said and suddenly Sandor understood what Tyrell plot Lord Tyrin had been talking about. Obviously, the Tyrells had planned to marry her to one of their family members themselves.

“How do I make the best of my circumstances? I have to marry him,” Sansa said before Margaery handed her a rose.

“Has Lord Tyrion mistreated you?”

“No,” Sansa said. _Because I would have killed him if he had_ , Sandor added in his mind.

“Has he been kind to you?”

“He's tried.”  
“You don't want him, though.”

“He's a Lannister.”  
“Far from the worst Lannister, wouldn't you say?”  
“I'm sorry. Here I am complaining to you.”

“My son will be king. Sons learn from their mothers. I plan to teach mine a great deal. And your son, if I'm not mistaken, your son might be the Lord of Casterly Rock and the North someday,” Margaery said and Sandor felt his stomach turn at the thought of Sansa bearing the Imp’s child. “What?” the Tyrell girl asked amused when Sansa looked uncomfortable herself.

“My son with him…” The little bird said and swallowed. “I'll have to… we'll have to…”

Sandor felt even sicker now.

“If it's the pain you're worried about…”

“I'm not afraid of the pain. Not after what Joffrey's done to me.”  
“What is it, then? He's rather good-looking even with the scar. Especially with the scar,” Margaery said with a slightly dreamy voice, but Sandor had a hard time to believe she would even turn her attention to anyone who wasn’t outstanding good looking.  
“He's a dwarf,” Sansa said.

“Some women like tall men. Some like short men. Some like hairy men. Some like bald men. Gentle men, rough men, ugly men, pretty men, pretty girls. Most women don't know what they like until they've tried it. And, sadly, so many of us get to try so little before we're old and gray. Tyrion may surprise you. From what I've heard, he's quite experienced,” Margaery said.

_Only with whores_ , Sandor thought _. And he pays these to tell them he is a capable lover._

“And that's a good thing?” Sansa asked confused and Sandor had to smile to himself at how innocent she was. Sometimes Sandor thought Sansa the only innocent person in this whole city and he was somehow glad she still was that innocent.

“It can be. We're very complicated, you know. Pleasing us takes practice,” Margaery said and Sandor immediately saw through Margaery’s words. Luckily Joffrey was way too stupid to have a chance to notice during his wedding night, that Margaery for sure wasn’t a maiden. And by the way, she talked about that for a long time already.

“How do you know all this?” Sansa asked innocently. “Did your mother teach you?” Sansa added in a whisper.  
Sandor saw through the twigs how Margaery looked at Sansa like she wasn’t sure if Sansa was joking. The Tyrell girl took the little bird’s arm.

“Yes, sweet girl. My mother taught me…” she said as they walked away and Sandor was sure Sansa believed that lie.

***

Sandor didn’t report any of that conversation to Tywin besides the information that Margaery had consoled Sansa.

Sandor had no idea if Lord Tywin sensed that he wasn’t telling everything, but if he did, he didn’t say or do anything. Probably because the wedding date was set in less than two weeks and these two weeks had passed in a rush.

Sandor had not been able to report anything new at this time, because Sansa spent most of the time in her own room, where she was visited by seamstresses sewing her wedding dress.

Sandor was glad for it. The mere thought of Sansa marrying the Imp made him feel sick and angry.

He had hoped he could spend this day in his room drinking himself to sleep, but Joffrey had ordered that he was to attend the wedding ceremony and the feast. He obviously wanted that everybody could see Sansa’s humiliation.

Sandor was no waiting with everybody else in the Sept of Baelor for the bride to arrive.

Sandor ground his teeth seeing Tyrion await his bride next to the High Septon.

The doors of the sept opened and Sansa stood in the door surrounded by light.

Joffrey approached her and took her arm.

_This little bastard,_ Sandor thought _. He murdered her father and now takes his place at his daughter’s wedding._

As Sansa walked down the aisle her eyes meet his once for a moment and gave her a small nod that she answered with a small nod herself.

After Joffrey led her up the stairs to the High Septon Sandor saw how Joffrey took away the step stool, Tyrion was supposed to use for the cloaking. Sandor heard Joffrey chuckle when he returned to the other guests.

“You may now cloak the bride and bring her under your protection,” the High Septon announced.  
Sansa turned her back to Tyrion. He attempted to cloak Sansa, but he is too short. Sandor could hear Joffrey start to snicker and some in the crowd joined in, only to be silenced by Tywin turning around.  
“Could you…?” Sandor heard Tyrion ask Sansa.  
Sansa kneeled for Tyrion and Sandor couldn’t stop thinking that this was just another humiliation for her and her House. Tyrion placed the cloak on her shoulders and she rose again.  
“Your Grace, Your Grace, my lords, my ladies, we stand here in the sight of gods and men to witness the union of man and wife. One flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever,” the High Septon said to start the actual ceremony and Sandor felt regret flood through his body, that he hadn’t simply taken Sansa with him during the battle. It would be easier to accept Sansa hating him for taking her with him out of this city against her will, rather than seeing her say her vows.

After they had both said their vows the time for the kiss came and Sandor shut his eyes close. He didn’t need to see this. It was enough to hear Joffrey’s chuckling at the face Sansa probably made when she had to kiss Tyrion.

***

Sandor didn’t sit close to the high table, but he still had a good view of it. Ever since the feast has started Sansa sat stoically like a statue next to her husband, who had not stopped to refill his glass every time he had emptied it.

Sandor saw Tyrion carefully and drunkenly fill his wine glass to the brim. He smacks his lips and looked over to Sansa like he wanted to be congratulated for not spilling the wine.

Ser Loras left the high table after his grandmother said something. That was the only positive thing Sandor could find in all of this. Cersei had to marry Ser Loras much to Sandor’s amusement. Everybody knew that he was preferring men instead of women.

At the head table, Tyrion checked his teeth in a golden plate and tosses it aside, hitting his cup spilling his wine. He started to clean himself with the table cloth. The embarrassment brought the little bird out of her stiff discomfort.

Sansa obviously wanted to excuse herself for a moment.

As soon as Sansa got up from her seat, Sandor saw Joffrey get up and followed her. In the meantime, the Lord of Casterly Rock had approached his son. Sandor couldn’t understand what they were talking about, but the faces they both made indicated that it wasn’t a japing matter. Lord Tywin probably was annoyed that his son looked like a drunken fool.

Tyrion refilled his cup, but Tywin took it away and slammed it on the table.

“You can drink, you can joke, you can engage in juvenile attempts to make your father uncomfortable, but you will do your duty,” Tywin said loud enough for Sandor to hear.

The Lord of the Westerlands returned to his seat and Sandor took a sip from his own cup trying to spot Sansa and he finally spotted her near the balcony hidden behind some silk curtains, while Joffrey talked with her.

Joffrey smirked cruelly as he turns back to the main hall and clapped his hands for attention.

“Time for the bedding ceremony.”

“There will be no bedding ceremony,” Tyrion said drunkenly.

Joffrey took the little bird’s hand and lead her to the central banquet floor.

“Where's your respect for tradition, Uncle? Come, everyone. Pick her up and carry her to her wedding bed. Get rid of her gown. She won't be needing it any longer. Ladies, attend to my uncle. He's not heavy.”

“There will be no bedding ceremony,” the Imp said once more.

“There will be if I command it!” Joffrey said annoyed.  
  
Tyrion rammed his knife resoundingly into the table in front of him. The gathered people went quiet all of sudden.

“Then you'll be fucking your own bride with a wooden cock!” Tyrion said fuming and Sandor took a sip from his cup to hide his smirk.

Sandor never liked Tyrion, due to his nature of making fun of everything all the time, but Sandor had to give him the respect that he was one of the few to actually oppose Joffrey.

“What did you say?” Joffrey asked. “What did you say?!”

“I believe we can dispense with the bedding, Your Grace. I'm sure Tyrion did not mean to threaten the king,” Lord Tywin said obviously attempting to calm down the situation.

There was an uncomfortable moment of silence in the hall before Tyrion spoke up.

“A bad joke, Your Grace. Made out of envy of your own royal manhood. Mine is so small. My poor wife won't even know I'm there,” Tyrion said and some guests laughed.

“Your uncle is clearly quite drunk, Your Grace.”

“I am. Guilty. But… but it is my wedding night.”

Tyrion stood up from the head table and tumbled into another as he tried to walk.

“My tiny drunk cock and I have a job to do. Come, wife,” The Imp said and grabbed Sansa’s hand who had watched the whole scene quietly but looking small and embarrassed.

The two went to leave while the gathered guests watched.

“I vomited on a girl once in the middle of the act. Not proud of it. But I think honesty is important between a man and wife, don't you agree? Come, I'll tell you all about it. Put you in the mood,” Sandor could hear Tyrion say before they were gone from the hall and Sandor felt his stomach turn.

As soon as the Imp and Sansa were gone, the mood lifted a little again and people returned to eating, drinking and chatting, but Sandor didn’t want any of it.

He quietly left the hall and went to the kitchen. The kitchen was still busy sending out food for the feast, so nobody noticed him grabbing a handful of wineskins.

He went to his room and threw the door shut after he had entered. He immediately unplugged the first wineskin and gulped it down quickly. After it was empty, he threw it against the wall before he unplugged the second one drinking it just as quickly.

Sandor wanted to numb all emotions he currently felt. It felt so cruel and unjust that of all people Sansa had to marry the Imp and that this little shit obviously didn’t even realize how lucky he was.

If he did, he wouldn’t have gotten piss drunk tonight and made this day even worse for Sansa than it already was.

Sandor threw away the second wineskin and started to drink the third. He wanted to keep the pictures of Sansa being with the Imp right now out of his head.

Sandor felt tears well in his eyes and he threw the half-empty wineskin against the wall before he threw himself on the bed.

“I am so sorry,” Sandor sobbed into his pillow. “I should have saved you, little bird. I should have saved you from all of this.”


	4. Sandor

The next couple of weeks were torturous for Sandor. Every day he had to continue spying on Sansa and every day he had to see _her_ with _him_.

Every day he was reminded of his mistake of not saving her from the Imp.

The day after the wedding when Sandor had watched her in the godswood he had let his eyes wander over every inch of her to check if there were any visible bruises or scratches.

The rumors about the Imp had to be true at the core. Everybody said he was a perverted creature.

When Sandor couldn’t spot any he was sure the Imp had left them to be unseen by the public hidden by her clothes, just like the King’s guard Joffrey had ordered them to beat her.

When Joffrey had ordered to beat her, she had at least still been a Stark. Now she was a wedded and bedded Lannister. She belonged to the Imp forever now. This thought saddened Sandor and only fueled his anger against himself, why he had to be such a drunken mess when he had come to her room. If he had just stayed sober instead…the little bird might not have been afraid of him and left with him.

Ever since the wedding he hadn’t touched a single flask of wine. It was his punishment to himself to stay clear in mind while having to see her every day even if it became harder every day for him.

Maybe he would Lord Tywin tell him he couldn’t do it anymore, not caring about the punishment he would get, he thought when he walked up the Hand’s tower to give Lord Tywin his daily report.

Lord Tywin was sitting at his table as always not looking up as he approached.

“So what do you report, Clegane?” he asked.

“I can't do that anymore Lord Tywin…” Sandor said simply and the Lord of the Westerlands stopped writing and put down his feather before he looked up.

“What?” he asked after a second of mustering him.

“Lord Tywin, every day I watch the Stark girl doing absolutely nothing. She walks in the gardens with your son or handmaiden, or she spends way too many hours praying. What does it matter anyway anymore she is your daughter in law. My fighting skills are wasted. Send me to the Wall or do whatever you want to punish me…” he said but Lord Tywin raised his hand to silence him.

“Your reports are more important than ever now, Clegane. At least until my fool of son finally does his duty and puts a son in the Stark girl. But according to the handmaiden that spies for Cersei my son still hasn’t managed to deflower his wife,” Lord Tywin said annoyed. “My son was always a fool, but until he finally beds her you will continue spying on the Stark girl so nobody else but my son claims her maidenhead.”

Sandor felt kind of relieved to hear that Tyrion hadn't bedded Sansa. Did he have the slightest bit of honor after all?

“Do you fear she will cuckold your son?” Sandor rasped.

“I don’t think so. She seems to be a submissive little thing, but as things stand her maidenhead is the _keyhole_ to the North and won’t have anyone else but my son unlock it. You understand?”

“I understand. What if somebody tries it anyway?”

“Do whatever you have to do to prevent it, but she stays a maiden until my son beds her,” Tywin said.

“Understood.”

“I expect your next report tomorrow then,” Tywin simply said and continued with his letter, not seeing Sandor bow his head before leaving.

***

It became more endurable to see her every day now after he had heard from Lord Tywin that Sansa was still not the Imp’s in the eyes of the gods even though the fear of hearing that Tyrion finally had claimed his husbandly rights lingered like a shadow over his head.

Sandor again watched her from the rosebushes as she did her daily prayers in the godswood when some man approached her.

Sandor was tempted to immediately step out from the bushes but instead, he decided to wait for a moment to see who that man was.

It turned out it was Dontos the fool. He would be dead if Sansa and, in some extension, Sandor hadn’t spoken up for him during the tourney Joffrey had held for his name day.

Sandor was sure Dontos didn’t have the courage to harm Sansa in any way. Even from where he was hiding, he could see that he was piss drunk once more.

He couldn’t hear what they were talking about, but Dontos tried to give her something. That’s when Sandor decided to step in.

“What are you doing fool?” he rasped and Dontos jumped at his voice.

“I asked you what are you doing,” Sandor repeated and approached them.

Dontos didn’t say anything but looked like he was going to piss himself at every given moment.

“Bugger off and leave the lady alone,” he rasped and Dontos walked away quickly, looking back several times if Sandor was following him.

Sandor made sure Dontos was out of earshot before he turned to Sansa.

“What did he try to give you?” he demanded to know.

“Nothing,” Sansa said smirking and obviously didn’t even try to hide her lie.

“Don’t lie to me girl,” he rasped.

“He was just trying to give me a necklace from his family. He wanted me to wear it for Joffrey’s wedding,” she said truthfully.

“Don’t take any gifts he gives you. They can’t mean anything good,” he said and Sansa raised her eyebrow.

“Is that so?” she asked slightly amused.

“This is no joking matter.”

“You know that I know you watch me every day, don’t you?” she asked and Sandor felt a cold shiver run down his spine.

“I have no idea what you mean,” Sandor lied.

Sansa only smirked at him.

“Of course,” she said sweetly. “I got to go; I have a fitting for a new dress for Joffrey’s wedding. You might see something you haven’t seen before,” she said before she bit her lower lip and Sandor felt his face warm up.

“What are you trying to say?” he asked.

“Nothing,” she said sweetly with another smirk before she turned and left the godswood while Sandor watched her leave.

***

After he was done with his daily report to Lord Tywin in which he left out that small part with Dontos, Tywin handed him a letter he was supposed to bring to Pycelle to be sent away by raven.

“Here, Lord Tywin demands this letter be sent immediately,” Sandor said as he found the Maester in his tower.

“Ohh Clegane…of course, I’ll send it immediately,” the Maester said and Sandor handed him the letter. “That must be the answer to the letter from the Twins Lord Tywin received this morning,” Pycelle said absently as if Sandor wasn’t there.

“The Twins?” Sandor asked.

“Ohh Clegane you are still here?” Pycelle asked. “Yes, yes, the Twins. Lord Walder send a letter this morning and it must be an important matter if Lord Tywin answers this quickly.”

“Seems so,” Sandor said and left the Maester’s tower thinking it can’t be though if Lord Tywin exchanges letters with the allies of the little bird’s brother.


	5. Sansa

Sansa felt numb. She barely felt anything else.

“You need to eat something,” Shae said, but Sansa didn’t say anything.

“Pigeon pie?” She asked and pushed the plate a little towards her.

“No, thank you.”

“Lemon cakes?” Shae asked a little desperate.

“No, thank you.”

“You love lemon cakes,” Shae said.

_No, I loved my family_ , Sansa thought.

Tyrion approached them.

“Tell her she needs to eat,” Shae said.

“My lady, you do need to eat,” her husband said kindly.

“I don't need to eat,” Sansa said absently.

“If I could have a moment alone with my wife,” Tyrion requested and Shae left, but not before she repeated that she should eat something.

Sansa hadn’t been able to eat anything really ever since the news of the Red Wedding had arrived.

Her husband sat down at the table and he took her hand after a moment of hesitation.

“I can't let you starve,” he gently said. “I swore to protect you.”

Sansa pulled her hand away.

“My lady, I am your husband. Let me help you,” he said.

“How can you help me?” Sansa asked. There was nothing anyone could do.

“I don't know, but I can try.”

“I lie awake all night staring at the canopy thinking about how they died,” Sansa whispered and felt tears run down her face. Sometimes she wondered where these tears were coming from after sheading them basically constantly for days already

“I could get you essence of nightshade to help you sleep.”

“Do you know what they did to my brother? How they sewed his direwolf's head onto his body? And my mother. They say they cut her throat to the bone and threw her body in the river,” Sansa continued.

Joffrey had taken joy in telling her all the details when he had revealed the Red Wedding to her, while she had quietly listened, trying not to show how much her world felt like it was collapsing right inside her.

“What happened to your family was a terrible crime. I didn't know your brother. He seemed like a good man, but I didn't know him. Your mother, on the other hand, I admired her. She wanted to have me executed, but I admired her. She was a strong woman. And she was fierce when it came to protecting her children. Sansa. Your mother would want you to carry on. You know it's true,” he said, but Sansa couldn’t take it anymore. She didn’t want any Lannister to talk about her family. Not even if it was her husband.

Sansa stood up from the table and Tyrion followed her lead.

“Will you pardon me, my lord? I'd like to visit the godswood,” she said politely.

“Of course. Of course. Prayer can be helpful, I hear.”

“I don't pray anymore. It's the only place I can go where people don't talk to me,” she said. “Don’t wait for me when its dinner time. I want to hold a wake for my family if you allow it.”

“Of course, my lady,” he politely said. “You know where you can find me if you need me.”

It was one of the few things she respected about Tyrion. He never cared how long she stayed away in the godswood.

She went her usual path until she reached the weirwood and she sank on her knees, her body already shaking with sobs before the tears broke free and she openly started to cry.

This was the only place in all of King’s Landing where she could grief the loss of her family. If Joffrey or Cersei saw her, she was sure she would be punished for crying for dead traitors.

“Little bird,” she heard a raspy voice behind her and she knew to whom it belonged.

She turned around and saw Sandor stand a few paces away, his face softer than she had ever seen him.

She got up from the ground and simply flung herself in his arms. She had no idea why, but something in her urged her to do it. Sansa felt strong arms embrace her and they gave her a feeling of being protected she hadn’t felt since the last time her father had hugged her all these years ago.

The thought that the last gentle and protective hug was years ago made her cry even harder.

She buried her face in his tunic and when her knees went week, he held her with his strong arms as he sat down against the white bark of the Weirwood holding her close as she sobbed for what she thought had to be hours.

The whole time Sandor didn’t say anything but hold her.

When the tears stopped for once she lifted her head from his tear damp tunic and looked up at him.

He softly looked back at her and his large hand reached out for her face, only to wipe away a few tears still sticking to her cheek with his thumb.

At this moment Sansa saw truly what man he was. The Hound was what he showed the world, but this was Sandor Clegane. She had seen this man before when he had kissed her after she had sung to him. The Hound had entered her room that night, but the man Sandor Clegane had left.

She watched his eyes and they held warmth she hadn’t noticed in anyone's eyes looking at her for a long time. Most eyes looked at her with either hate, pity or greed. But his eyes just held a warmth that Sansa could only describe as…yes, loving eyes.

She remembered how gentle his kiss during the Blackwater had been and she wanted to feel that again. She cupped his cheek and gently brushed her lips against his.

When their lips parted, she saw his surprised facial expression and decided to kiss him again.

“Little Bird, you will be the death of both of us,” he whispered as their lips parted this time.

“I don’t care,” Sansa said truthfully. “I have nothing left. My family is dead and my home lies in ruins. I have nothing and I want to at least feel…feel something good.”

She felt tears well in her eyes once more.

“You are the only person who has ever been good to me in this city,” she said and felt a tear run down her cheek. “The Lannisters took everything from me. They took my home…they took my parents…they took my siblings…and they took my hope…”

At these words, Sandor held her a little closer.

“Little bird…” he started but Sansa interrupted him.

“There is only one thing the Lannisters haven’t taken from me _yet_. I won’t have them take my maiden gift from me. That is mine to give and I only want to give it to one man in Westeros,” she said and kissed him once more.

If she couldn’t have a marriage out of love, she at least wants to give her maiden’s gift to the only man she deems worthy.

“Little bird…Sansa, I am not the right man for you. I am not known for the gentle words maidens like…”

“Yet, you speak softly with me,” Sansa said.

“I never bedded a virgin before…” he said, but Sansa interrupted him once more.

“Yet, I know you will be gentle with me,” she said softly.

“If anyone finds out you aren’t a maiden anymore…”

“I don’t care. I don’t fear death anymore. If this decision will be causing my death, I’d prefer to face my end with one happy memory,” she whispered with teary eyes. “And I want you to be this happy memory. The only man who ever cared enough for me to risk his life to save me.”

She slowly moved her face closer to his and this time he met her lips with his.

“And I’d risk my life for you every day,” he breathed after their lips left each others.

He let go of her and got up from the ground. Sansa looked questioning at him. Sandor held out his hand and she took it. He helped her from the ground and led her on the backside of the Weirwood, where they were surrounded by rosebushes.

“If I can’t give you a soft feather bed, I at least want it to happen in some privacy even if it’s just a few rosebushes,” he said and Sansa gave him a shy smile.

Behind the tree was some space on the ground and Sansa took off his cloak putting it on the ground.

Sandor knelt down on the cloak and held out his hand for Sansa to follow his lead.

Sansa did and knelt next to him. Sansa’s heart was beating quickly in her chest. This felt so right to be here with him at this moment.

“How do we go on?” she shyly asked and felt her face warm up. She was wanting this, but she had no idea how a bedding actually was done.

She was an innocent maiden after all and Septa Mordanes lection hadn’t taught her anything about it, but to follow her husband’s lead.

He smiled warmly at her and cupped her cheek before he gently kissed her once more.

Sandor got rid of his tunic and Sansa saw for the first time truly how well built he was. She stroked through his chest hair with her left hand and she noticed that she was still wearing her wedding ring made of Lannister gold. She pulled it off and put it aside. This moment was no time for anything Lannister being present.

Seeing Sandor like this made her want to show more of herself to him as well. Sandor kissed her jawline and then her throat and Sansa bit her lower lip lightly at the feeling of his mouth on her skin.

Sansa’s dress she wore today was tied up at the front so when Sandor’s hands started to over the knots her own hands swiftly untied the top ones so she was able to push her dress off her shoulders.

She slowly pushed her dress off her shoulder and this time she didn’t felt humiliated like she had when she had undressed for Tyrion in their wedding night. When her dress slid off her shoulders, she pulled her arms out of the long bell sleeves and watched his reaction closely to see her breast under the tin silk shift.

He looked in awe at her and she carefully pushed her shift off her shoulder until it pooled around her middle section like the rest of her dress.

“You are the maiden reborn, little bird,” Sandor softly rasped causing Sansa to smile shyly looking at the ground. His words sounded genuine and when she lifted her eyes, she saw the desire spark in his eyes. True desire, not just lust like she had seen in Tyrion’s eyes.

It was a warm day, still, the breeze from coming from the Blackwater made her nipples stiffen. Sandor leaned forward and placed some kisses on top of her breasts and Sansa hummed at the feeling.

“Lie down,” he gently said and she laid down on his cloak, which just felt as soft as the cloak had he had put around her shoulders when Joffrey had her stripped.

His hands wandered to the last knot of her dress asking for permission to lose it and Sansa nodded lightly. When he had undone it he gently opened her dress leaving her only with her shift around her middle section, her smallclothes, socks and shoes.

“What are the chances of anyone stumbling upon us?” he asked.

“None,” she breathed. “I told Tyrion I was holding a wake. He knows I won’t be back until late evening and nobody else is going to miss me.”

At her words, he got rid of his boots and Sansa pulled off her shift. Sandor helped her with her shoes and socks afterward until she was only in her smallclothes.

All of this felt so excited. Sandor started to kiss her once more letting his hands wander over her body as hers got bolder exploring his body.

His left palm cupped her breast and gently squeezed it making her hum.

_Yes…this feels right…this feels like it should feel_ , Sansa thought.

His hand wandered over her leg to the inside of her thigs and her heart speeded up even more when it moved upwards to her smallclothes.

He stroked over her smallclothes and she could feel the warmth of his hand through the fabric on her body.

His fingers followed the hem of it and Sansa lifted her bum a little so he could pull them off.

After he pulled them off, he unlaced his breeches as she watched him, but instead of getting rid of his smallclothes he kissed her leg.

“God's Little Bird, I want you so bad, but I simply have to taste you first or I’ll regret it my whole life,” he said and Sansa couldn’t make any sense of it yet, but she was flattered that he wanted her.

He kissed his way down her legs and Sansa was surprised he didn’t stop when he came close to her lady bits.

“Open your legs a little,” he requested and Sansa did. She watched him as he kissed the inside of her thighs before he turned, he turned his attention to her mound kissing his way to her nether lips.

“You smell delicious,” he said before he started to let his tongue travel alongside her folds and Sansa felt like her face was on fire, but what Sandor was doing felt incredibly good.

Sansa closed her eyes to embrace the feelings and she noticed the soft moans escaping her mouth.

She felt how she was getting damp. Sansa didn’t know if that was a good sign.

Sandor lifted his head and Sansa saw his beard moist with her wetness. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“I am sorry,” she awkwardly said.

“No need to be sorry. It’s good you become that moist. Makes things go easier,” he said.

“What you did…with your mouth it felt good…” she said and Sandor smirked before he buried his face once more between her legs.

Sansa felt something yet unknown build up inside her and not long after he started again, she felt the warmth spread through her body while her hands grabbed the cloak she was lying on tightly.

Sandor sat up and he smiled at her as she tried to control her breath. She smiled back and watched him as he slowly pulled down his smallclothes.

She had never seen a naked man and she was more than curious what awaited her.

His cock sprang free from his smallclothes and Sansa was strangely fascinated to actually see it.

He moved closer to her and she opened her legs to give him more space. He brushed his cock against her folds until she felt him at her entrance.

“Look at me,” he said and Sansa focused on his face as she braced her self for the pain, everybody, even Margaery talked about when a man claimed a maidenhead.

She felt him slowly enter her, but there was no pain. Instead, there was just the feeling of being filled and stretched.

He slowly started to move and continued to exchange kisses with her. Every time he buried himself in her a soft moan escaped her mouth and she flung her arm around his neck to pull him closer.

She wanted to feel his warmth and weight. Again, she felt something built up in her.

“Yes…more…” she softly moaned and Sandor did exactly as she had asked. Not soon after she felt herself tighten around him. She moaned his name against his skin as she rode out her peak and Sandor helped her with some long and slow thrusts.

When she came back to senses he raised his pace and soon she heard him moan her name close to her ear as she felt his cock spill himself inside her.

He rolled off her, but they snuggled up close to each other. Sansa felt happy and for a moment all the grief that had filled her days the last couple of days was gone.

Some birds were singing above them in the trees and they both listened to their songs, while the breeze from the river made the canopy of the trees move a little.

Sansa had her head placed on his chest and she drew small circles with her index through his chest hair.

“Thank you,” she finally said after a while.

“No need to thank me,” he softly said and she felt him kiss the crown of her head.

“I should have gone with you, during the Blackwater,” Sansa said.

“What?” Sandor asked.

“I should have gone with you and we might have gotten to my family in time,” she whispered.

“Maybe, but I was so drunk that night that I would only have gotten us killed.”

“Still it would have been better than being the last Stark married to a Lannister.”

Sandor didn’t say anything.

“I am glad you were my first,” Sansa said. “You were as gentle as I expected.”

“Its not too late,” Sandor said and she lifted her head.

“Too late for what?” she asked slightly confused.

“To leave this place with me.”

“Sandor, I have no family left and no home. I have no place to run,” she said.

“I know I can’t give you back your family and I know I can’t give you back your home. I am no rich lordling of somewhere and no knight in a shining armor from the stories, but I’d be good to you. I’d protect you with my life and give everything to make you happy. Forever or how long you ever allow me to. So, little bird, will you leave this city with me tonight when everybody is asleep?” he asked.

Sansa heard the red leaves of the weirwood rustle above her.

“Yes, Sandor, I’ll leave with you tonight and we never look back at this place,” she said and brushed her lips against his before she snuggled up to him again.

For the first time between these rosebushes, she felt something she thought she would feel never again.

_Hope_.

The End.

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a Comment if you like :)


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